


Drunk on your love

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 0-100 real quick, A few mentions of Papyrus, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Foreplay, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mettaton is in his EX form btw, No Plot/Plotless, Sans has trouble sleeping, Short One Shot, Suggestive Themes, and i've fallen into mettasans hell, but i'm uncreative and tired, hoo boy, i also put this on wattpad btw, i know the title is overused, mettasans, seeing as it wouldn't really make sense otherwise, this is what happens when you listen to Can't Sleep Love for 15 hours straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:31:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8654401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sans can't sleep. Mettaton stays up with him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy. Um. I wrote this at like 2 in the morning and am currently extremely tired, so this ended up somewhat out of character and waaaaay more suggestive than I intended. It's basically halfway to smut. Whups. (Although, it's AO3, so it shouldn't really matter.) 
> 
> (Just a sidenote, I'm going along with the idea that Mettaton can remove his chestplate and shoulder armor and just wear normal clothes, if that helps the overall image of this.)
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

When Mettaton awakens, it’s to a bony thumb lightly tracing the plating on his face. Obviously realizing that he woke him, Sans draws his hand back from Mettaton’s jawline and locates his hand under the covers, gripping it tightly.

Mettaton’s eyes flutter open. “Can’t sleep?” he whispers, voice clipping slightly at the end of the question. Sans nods, covers rustling as he shifts closer to Mettaton.

There’s a quiet  _ whirr _ ing sound as Mettaton’s free arm extends and wraps around the skeleton.

“A bit unlike you, isn’t it?” 

Instead of responding, Sans merely lets go of the other’s hand and pulls him closer, feeling the faint thrum of machinery through Mettaton’s skin. Mettaton smiles faintly, planting a few light kisses on Sans’s skull. The latter thumbs at the cord leading from the outlet in Mettaton’s other back to the one in the wall.

“Do you ever think about what would happen if your life were to reset at the touch of a button?” San asks quietly. “All your memories of anything from months ago to now gone, just like that?”

Mettaton raises an eyebrow slightly, but doesn’t question Sans in the latter’s clearly exhausted state.

“Then I’d get to meet you all over again.”

Sans grins. “You’re cheesy when you’re tired,” he says, pulling back slightly and looking at him. What looks like pink oil rises just under Mettaton’s skin as he blushes, looking at the other indignantly.

“And you stroke my face when I’m sleeping.”

“Not stroking. Admiring.”

“And you say  _ I’m _ cheesy.”

Mettaton kisses him before he can respond, other arm wrapping around Sans as well. 

They lie in comfortable silence for a little while after pulling apart. Mettaton toys lightly with the hem of the skeleton’s shirt. At a nod from Sans, his gloved hand trails upwards and rests on Sans’s sternum.

Sans lets out a quiet sigh and Mettaton’s black-painted lips prick upwards at the corners ever so slightly. Led by Mettaton, they shift until Sans is half sitting up against the headboard, Mettaton straddling him.

Sans can feel the faint pulse of Mettaton’s soul against his chest as the latter traces light circles on his ribcage, fingers ghosting over the curved bones. Mettaton starts to hum softly, hardly audile as he peppers short kisses on the other’s skull and along his jawline, trailing down to his collarbone. Sans’s hands draw down from his waist to his hips and Mettaton almost instinctively presses closer. 

Sans smiles almost lazily, taking in the sight of the robot in front of him; the faint outline of wiring beneath his skin; the machinery partially covering the right side of his face; and the slight green tinge in the pink of his iris that indicates he’s charging. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers. The pink tinge in Mettaton’s cheeks becomes more pronounced. For someone who usually seems so self-obsessed in the presence of others, he seems oddly bashful. Perhaps it’s the rare genuine compliment coming from Sans, or something else; either way, Sans feels the thrumming of Mettaton’s soul speed up. Rather than responding, the hand on his ribcage speeds up slightly as Mettaton nips at his clavicle, pulling aside Sans’s shirt collar to do so. 

Sans unplugs the robot’s charging cord as to prevent it tangling around either of them before his hand travels to Mettaton’s hair, fingers twisting into the raven locks. Mettaton chuckles quietly, low voice sending shivers down Sans’s back.

Sans grunts and Mettaton slowly draws back, a smirk twisting his lips.

“Darling, do try to control yourself. You wouldn’t want to wake Papyrus, would you?”

“You’ll go against your own advice soon enough.”

Mettaton chuckles, hand slowing almost to a stop on his ribs as his other hand rests on his waist.

“Is that so?”

His thumb hooks under the elastic on Sans’s pajama pants ever so slightly.

The hand on Mettaton’s waist shifts and Sans’s fingers brush the casing over the heart on Mettaton’s stomach, popping off the protective covering. Mettaton lets out a small gasp as the other’s thumb ghosts over the heart-shaped core inside.

“Better keep it down,  _ darling _ ,” Sans says, smirking as Mettaton narrows his eyes at the use of his signature term against him.

However, Mettaton just bites his lip slightly, tugging slightly at the elastic.

“Make me.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> That went from 0-100 real fast haha oops 
> 
> I really should get some sleep
> 
> *drags my tired ass off AO3 and into bed*
> 
> Well. Hope you liked it, anyways. Thanks for reading.


End file.
